A Deadly Revenge
by Nuintincowen
Summary: A familiar face returns to Sunnydale with a warning for Buffy. He cautions her of the return of an old foe, a powerful one that is now seeking revenge against the Slayer. Please RR.
1. A Familiar Face

((Before you read this, there's a few things you should know: 1) I changed a little bit concering Dawn and the character this fic begins with (I'm not going to give away the story), 2) this fic is still in the editing stages, and 3) forgive my errors, please - but do feel free to correct them in a review ^-^. And with that, I bid you read!))  
  
A figure clothed in black stepped off of a Greyhound bus, wincing as the lights of the Sunnydale Bus Depot glared down at him. Unlike many of his fellow passengers, he carried nothing visible, save for the clothes he wore. With a grim look of determination on his face, he set off down the street, eyes fixed on the ground. His purposeful strides indicated he was no stranger to Sunnydale, although it had been nearly four years since he'd last visited the town.  
  
Taking several – obviously familiar – shortcuts through alleys and empty backyards, he never paused for breath, despite the fact that most normal humans would have had to pause at least once, for his pace was close to that of a run. But this man had no reason to take a breather. Truthfully, he had no reason to breathe at all, his race being something that struck fear in the hearts of many, despite his human appearance.  
  
After several minutes of travel, he paused at the corner of a street – this one more familiar then anything else here – and gazed at the street sign steadily with piercing eyes. Memories that he once thought were lost to him came rushing back, a tidal wave of images and thoughts. One particular picture lingered longer then all the others, that of the young woman he searched for now: the Slayer. A pained expression flickered across his face as he recalled the musical sound of her voice, the way she had once kissed him, and the expression on her face when he had left her without so much as a good-bye.  
  
"Buffy," he whispered, his voice barely audible.  
  
He shook his head then, forcing himself to concentrate on the reason why he had returned to the Hellmouth. As much as he had missed her, he knew she would not welcome him back.  
  
He steadily resumed his previous pace, his gaze now on a modern two-story house he had visited many times before. He slowed again once he reached it, standing under a second floor window and staring up at it for what seemed like an eternity. With a heavy sigh he placed his hands lightly on the latticework, hesitating for a moment, then beginning to climb, his graceful movements silent to human ears.  
  
His head slowly rose up above the window frame until his eyes were just visible. He quickly focused them on her, knowing his dead, withered heart would have skipped a beat had he been alive. But he wasn't alive. It had been over two hundred years since he'd lived.  
  
At that moment Buffy stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she mumbled something. Thanks to his vampiric hearing, he caught what she had said: his name. Despite how much he told himself that it was impossible, a flicker of hope filled his eyes.  
  
Then she spoke again: "Spike..."  
  
His hope quickly vanished, a scowl replacing it. He had rarely felt jealousy as a vampire until he had met Buffy Summers, and now the feeling had returned, though he would never admit it to anyone.  
  
He waited a moment or two after she had settled back into sleep before climbing through her open window, his movements fluid. He moved silently to her bedside, eyes falling on a framed photograph of the two of them together. He was startled by it, having no recollection of having it taken or the image of himself, so different from what he remembered he had looked like before he was changed.  
  
The picture was forgotten as he turned to gaze at Buffy again. Without thinking of the consequences, he extended a hand slowly, touching her softly on the shoulder.  
  
In the next instant she moved so quickly she was nearly a blur, a fierce punch catching him in the stomach. He doubled over with surprise and pain, his eyes no longer on her. She took advantage of this, grabbing his shoulders and roughly flipping him over the bed, a triumphant smirk on her face as he slammed into the wall.  
  
A soft grunt escaped his lips as he shifted slightly. "Damn, Buffy," he said softly, his eyes rising to meet hers.  
  
Her smirk vanished, a look of surprise replacing it. "Angel?" she asked, her tone incredulous.  
  
"Who else?" his voice was quiet as he slowly sat up.  
  
She slid out from underneath her blankets, her movements just as graceful as his as she moved to stand in front of him. "God, Angel, I didn't mean to... I had no idea..." she fumbled for words.  
  
He smiled wanly, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. Rarely, however, had any smile or happiness shown in his eyes. No pure, true happiness, that is. All of it was part of his curse.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I should have seen that coming."  
  
She said nothing in response, her eyes never leaving his face as he stood, for it was now her turn to experience a world of memories: when they'd first met... the night she discovered he was a vampire... the time he'd lost his soul because of her...  
  
"Buffy? You okay?" he asked quietly, reaching out a hand to yet again touch her shoulder.  
  
She didn't reply with any of the fighting techniques that were natural to her as the Slayer. But she didn't pull away, either - something that deeply touched and surprised him.  
  
She shook her head slightly, as if that simple action could clear out the thoughts she had forbidden from entering her mind. She looked up at him for a moment. "Angel..." she said softly, placing a hand over his on her shoulder and gently lifting it off of her. "Please... don't make this harder then it already is."  
  
He looked hurt for a brief moment and she looked away quickly, an attempt to hide the pain in her eyes. "I don't think that's possible," he said, his tone quiet.  
  
She looked back at him. "It is," she whispered. She bit her lip as he gazed steadily at her. "Why...?"  
  
He looked startled. "Why what?"  
  
"Why... why did you... come back? I mean... we decided to stay... away from each other... that time in LA..."  
  
It was now his turn to look away. He remembered exactly what time she spoke of, several months after he had left Sunnydale... and her. But he was the only person who remembered exactly what had happened that day, how a Mohra demon's blood had turned him mortal for just one day. He had given up that mortality for her, and she had no idea of what he'd done.  
  
He finally spoke, still avoiding looking at her. "Another vision."  
  
She looked startled and fearful, he noted as he glanced at her. "A... a vision? Doyle had a vision about... me?"  
  
"No," Angel replied, his voice cracking almost inaudibly. "Doyle... died."  
  
"Then who...?"  
  
He looked back at her slowly. "Cordelia."  
  
"Oh," her voice was quiet. "What did she see?"  
  
"It was vague... but it showed the Master."  
  
As he had expected, she looked stricken, fear showing prominently in her eyes. He didn't blame her for it. After all, the vampire had killed her once.  
  
She quickly masked her fear, though Angel could still smell it on her.  
  
"The... The Master?" she whispered.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, cradling her head in her hands. "But he's dead," she stated, looking up at him after several moments had passed.  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
"Angel, I killed him! Smashed his bones into dust! You were there. You saw it. And Giles, Willow, Xander... everyone saw me do it! I-"  
  
"Buffy," Angel interrupted, his voice tense. "Don't argue with me. Cordelia saw what she saw. I'm just... the messenger." He sat down beside her slowly, his tone soft and gentle as he spoke again, "I know you're scared. You have every right to be-"  
  
"Who said anything about me being scared?" she demanded.  
  
He sighed softly, shaking his head. "Don't try to lie to me, Buffy." He looked her steadily in the eye. "We've known each other too long. I know you are."  
  
She met his gaze in defiance, her lower lip slowly beginning to tremble. She looked away just as a small tear escaped her eye and trickled down her face. Angel saw it and gently slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. She leaned against him heavily, her shoulders shaking.  
  
Neither one of them said anything for several long moments, Angel cradling Buffy's head on his chest. Both jumped as a voice rang out down the hallway.  
  
"Buffy? Are you okay?"  
  
"Dawn," Buffy whispered, slipping out of Angel's embrace just as her younger sister opened the door.  
  
"Buffy... I heard something. Did you fall-" Dawn's eyes widened as they came to rest on Angel.  
  
She stood quickly, crossing the room to Dawn's side. "I..."  
  
"You're Angel."  
  
He raised his eyebrows, having no knowledge of Dawn. "Have we met?" he asked slowly.  
  
Dawn grinned slightly. "Of course. Back when the Scoobies blew up Sunnydale High."  
  
"I'm definitely confused," Angel stated, looking to Buffy for an explanation as he stood as well.  
  
"Angel, this is Dawn," she said quickly.  
  
"I realized that," he said.  
  
"My sister."  
  
"Ah," was the only thing he could manage, his surprise prominent in both his voice and expression.  
  
"Dawn, go back to bed. We... Angel and I need to talk," Buffy began to guide her sister back out into the hallway.  
  
"Oh, come on, Buffy. I'm not a little kid anymore-"  
  
"Go."  
  
Dawn sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine," she snapped, returning to her room quickly. The sound of a door slamming shut confirmed her whereabouts.  
  
Buffy turned around slowly, walking back into the room and avoiding Angel's gaze.  
  
"Since when do you have a sister?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.  
  
"Long story."  
  
"I can imagine it would be. Share?"  
  
"Dawn is... Angel, have you ever heard of the Key?" she asked quietly, meeting his eyes finally.  
  
He thought for a brief moment. "I have."  
  
"Dawn's it."  
  
He said nothing in response at first, his surprise becoming even more obvious. "That... that's definitely interesting."  
  
"Yeah. So about Cordy's vision..."  
  
"I basically told you everything."  
  
She crossed the room to stand in front of him, her expression serious. "Really, now?" He said nothing. "Angel, why are you here? Don't tell me it's because of Cordy's vision. You have phones in LA, right?"  
  
"Buffy-"  
  
"I'm not finished. Are you here to protect me? Is that it? I-"  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I didn't want to call you."  
  
"Why not?" she demanded.  
  
"Because... Because I wanted-"  
  
"To see the Hellmouth again?"  
  
"-to see you," he finished.  
  
"That's not true. You-" she stopped abruptly, what he had said now fully registering."-wanted to what?"  
  
"You heard me," he said softly.  
  
"Angel, if this is some kind of joke..." she warned, her voice as quiet as his.  
  
"You know it isn't."  
  
"But... we decided it was easier. That it was better..." she trailed off.  
  
"We were wrong," he said simply.  
  
"We were?" she gazed up at him.  
  
He nodded, gently touching her face as their heads moved closer to each other. "You know we were," he murmured, his lips inches from hers.  
  
"I do."  
  
They moved closer, ready to kiss just as a familiar voice cut through the silence in the room.  
  
"Well, well. Mr. I've-Got-A-Bloody-Soul is back in Sunnydale." 


	2. Another Familiar Face

They jumped apart, their heads jerking away from each other as two pairs of eyes fixed on the same window Angel had climbed through.  
  
"Spike," Buffy said softly, her eyes wide as she looked from him to Angel.  
  
"Long time, no see, love," he said with a smirk.  
  
"What do you want, Spike?" Angel demanded, his voice stiff and uninviting.  
  
"My own business, that is. What the hell are you doing here? It's not that you aren't welcome-" He paused, obviously thinking. "Well, actually it is."  
  
Angel said nothing, taking a threatening step closer to Spike.  
  
"Trying to scare me?" Spike's smirk grew as he stepped through the window into her room. "That doesn't work anymore."  
  
"You've invited him in, Buffy?" Angel said. Every muscle in his body tensed as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Spike.  
  
Spike's smirk faded. "What? You mean to tell me that she hasn't told you?"  
  
"Told me what?" suspicion slowly found its way into Angel's eyes and voice as Buffy shifted uncomfortably beside him.  
  
The blonde vampire grinned once more. "The Slayer's been keeping my crypt warm, Angelus."  
  
Angel was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed. When he finally spoke his voice was a deadly whisper: "Liar."  
  
Spike scoffed at this, his eyes darkening. "Alright, then. Slayer, you tell our old friend here the truth."  
  
Angel slowly turned to face Buffy, desperately hoping that the other vampire was wrong. "Buffy?" he asked softly.  
  
She avoided his gaze once more, her voice a whisper. "Angel, I... He's telling the truth..."  
  
"Told you," Spike gloated softly, his eyes glittering.  
  
"Spike, shut it!" she snapped angrily.  
  
For once, the vampire complied without a word.  
  
Buffy turned to Angel, a resolute expression on her face.  
  
"I know you're going to blame this on me, Angel, but don't. You're the one that walked out of town without a word, only to show up later on to follow me around. Not only did you do that, but you never said a single word to me until I found you in LA."  
  
"We've already talked about this. Why are you bringing it up again?"  
  
"Because it still hurts!" the volume of her voice rose with each word.  
  
He was silent at this, still gazing at her. Moments later he spoke again, "I know, Buffy. I feel it, too."  
  
Spike finally broke his momentary silence. "Alright, then. What's done is done. Can't undo the past, I always say." He clapped his hands together once, staring pointedly at Buffy. "And now, I need to have a little word with the Slayer. You done here, Angel?"  
  
"Actually-"  
  
"Yes. He is," Buffy interrupted, her eyes silently telling Angel to leave.  
  
The dark vampire looked hurt for a moment, but the expression faded quickly, anger replacing it. Without a word to the other two he crossed to the window, climbing out of it and disappearing into the night silently.  
  
"Buffy-"  
  
"What?" she snapped.  
  
"Damn," Spike cursed softly, looking away. "Look, Buffy. I'm sorry I interrupted your little chitchat with Angelus-"  
  
"Don't call him that," she said slowly, her voice strained.  
  
A grin spread across Spike's face lazily. "What, Buff? Does the name bring back memories of the killer he is?"  
  
"He's not a killer."  
  
"He's a vampire, love. What else would he be?"  
  
"Hypocrite," she spat angrily, taking another step away from him.  
  
With a low growl Spike crossed the room to Buffy's side, grabbing her upper arms roughly and forcing her to look him in the eye. "Really? Tell me something I don't know, Slayer."  
  
"Get your hands off of me," she said, her eyes flashing.  
  
He said nothing in response, looking her in the eye and silently challenged her. For several minutes they stood there, Spike's grip tightening occasionally.  
  
Buffy was the first to speak: "Why are you doing this?" she pleaded softly.  
  
He didn't answer, instead shoving her away from him with a low growl and watching with grim satisfaction as she collapsed onto her bed. She slowly sat up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He looked her in the eye, despite the fact that her hair covered much of her face.  
  
He forced himself to break eye contact with her, almost ashamed at having lost his temper – again. He still said nothing, avoiding her question.  
  
"Get out, Spike," she said quietly, her voice filled with anger.  
  
He finally looked back at her, surprised and yet furious for some unknown reason. "What?"  
  
"You heard me. Just... Just leave." She turned away, obviously finished.  
  
Spike hesitated. "Buffy-"  
  
"Go!"  
  
He jerked his head back as if slapped, his voice a growl as he spoke once more, "Fine."  
  
The blonde vampire turned his back on her swiftly, his trench coat billowing out behind him as he crossed the room in three strides. Easily slipping over the window frame, Spike glanced once more at Buffy. With a barely audible sigh he left her there, climbing back down.  
  
When he was barely six feet from the ground his foot stumbled slightly and suddenly he was in the air, falling fast. He hit the ground with a grunt, cursing himself silently for his lack of concentration.  
  
"Nice," came a calm voice from the shadow of a nearby tree.  
  
Spike looked up quickly, a scowl on his face as his eyes landed on Angel. "Oh, bloody hell. I thought you left."  
  
"Obviously not."  
  
Spike stood slowly, still scowling. "Why?"  
  
"I want to know what's going on between you and Buffy."  
  
"Oh... jealous, are we?" he sneered.  
  
"Just tell me what I want to know, Spike."  
  
He said nothing for a moment, contemplating what he should or shouldn't say to Angel. His old nemesis stared him down, his hatred for him prominent. He could only imagine what the other vampire would do to him if he told him the real story.  
  
Of course, the git won't know if what I tell him is the truth or not, he thought silently, a slow grin curving his lips.  
  
"Well?" Angel's tone was an obvious indication of his impatience.  
  
"What's there to tell besides what you already know?"  
  
"A lot, apparently."  
  
"Not all that much-"  
  
"Damnit, Spike. Stop avoiding the question," he growled softly.  
  
"Would you like me to tell you the short story, or the long version of it, then?"  
  
Angel said nothing in response and it was obvious to Spike that the vampire wasn't going to be civil towards him for much longer.  
  
"I have a better idea: How about you just start talking." It wasn't a question.  
  
He hesitated for a moment, than spoke slowly. "In her mind, I am what you used to be to her. You know, the whole 'boyfriend' thing?"  
  
He was still silent, but it was obvious to Spike that he had struck a nerve. The other vampire's hands clenched silently.  
  
"So do you still think I'm lying, Angel? Still think I'm making it all up just to make you jealous?" Spike sneered again.  
  
"No-" Angel started to say.  
  
"But I do."  
  
Damn... Spike turned quickly, his eyes falling on Buffy. 


End file.
